In the deep expanses of the Faelands, beneath towering trees that stretched to the sky, Lyanna walked with Lagos and Grent. Lyanna glanced skyward, her gaze following the soaring figure of Eti in the blue sky.

  Lyanna’s wings, shimmering and delicate, fluttered slightly with each step she took. Once more they were fully returned to her, but still, she had remained firmly planted on the ground.

  Grent, ever the straightforward one, cast a glance her way.

  “You know, you could fly too, Ly,” he offered. “Lagos and I can handle the ground. You don’t have to keep pace with us.”

  Lyanna shook her head, her wings shifting gently at her back. "It’s fine. There’s something beautiful about walking on the forest floor.”

  The trio moved onward, the scent of soft earth mixing with the cool breeze that swept through the forest. Highhaven, a city of wood and sky, began to emerge in the distance, its towers rising above the treetops, piercing the clouds as if trying to touch the very heavens themselves.

  The trees had begun to thin, and in the clearing that stretched out before the gates of the city, they saw Terrance. He stood alone at the edge of the path, a silent figure, his massive shield resting against the ground as he looked off into the distance with a contemplative gaze.

  “Well met,” Terrance greeted, his voice as solid as the shield he carried. “Grent, Lyanna, Lagos.”

  Grent, who had been walking in silence, stopped and looked at his old friend and mentor.

  “Grent,” Terrance said, his tone more thoughtful now. “You’d best wait here. I’ll fetch the key for Avaris’s square.”

  Grent’s lips thinned, but he nodded in agreement. "I’ll wait here."

  Lyanna stepped forward as she looked between the two men. That decision was made long ago. But that decision will be undone.

  "I’m the Guardian now," she said, her tone resolute. "Grent can come into Highhaven. It’s his right."

  Terrance's eyes met hers, searching for something beneath her words, but said nothing further. Grent’s response was a simple nod, his face still hidden beneath the veil of quiet resolve. He, too, was silent.

  "The tides have rolled over the yesterday's sand." Lagos, always the one to break the silence with his sharp words. "After all this time, I’m sure they’ll let you in, Grent,” he said.

  The walls of Highhaven loomed ahead, tall and wrought with ancient wood, their intricate design as much a work of art as it was a statement of power. The stone beneath their feet, worn smooth by countless footsteps, the scars of war still visible in every crevice and corner.

  But the city was alive once more, and as the party approached, Lyanna could hear the hum of magic and reconstruction in the air. Fae flying, their wings stirring the breeze, carrying with them beams of wood, crates of stone, and arcane materials that shimmered with an otherworldly glow.

  They passed by the massive rods driven into the earth, remnants of a force that had once been wielded by Avaris. Each rod twisted and towered over them, taller than ten men standing on their shoulders.

  The metal gleamed like some monstrous spear thrust into the heart of the world, its scale terrifying. Grent’s gaze flickered up at them, his brow furrowing in a mixture of awe and distaste.

  "I’ve seen siege weapons, but this... this is something else," he muttered. Not many sights would shake the core of the muscular warrior. This was one of them.

  He glanced at Lyanna. "Avaris’s doing, I take it?"

  Lyanna nodded, her expression unreadable. "Yes," she said simply. "Avaris and his golems.. They crafted those weapons to tear down Highhaven, to leave nothing standing in their wake. And now they are a constant reminder of what has passed."

  They moved through the outer gates, a grand passage carved into the earth itself, its size monumental, as though the ground had been split open to welcome them. The wooden structure of the gates towered above them, engraved with ancient symbols of the fae.

  As they passed through the gate, the fae guards standing at attention watched them with keen eyes, their lithe forms draped in leather armor. When their gaze fell upon Lyanna, a ripple of recognition seemed to pass through the crowd. Without a word, the guards bowed low to her, their expressions respectful, though tinged with something else—an almost hesitant reverence.

  But when their eyes shifted to Grent, that same reverence evaporated. A sharp, narrow gaze locked onto him, their eyes filled with something far less welcoming. The fae guards had no need to speak their thoughts, they wore their disdain on their faces.

  Lagos cracked a grin at the exchange. "Not quite the warmest welcome, eh?" he said, his voice carrying just enough to make Grent’s lips twitch, but no more than that. Grent’s gaze remained forward, his silence answer enough.

  "Do not mind them," Lyanna said, though her eyes flickered with an emotion that only Grent could recognize. "They have their traditions. And their own way of seeing things."

  With a small nod to the fae guards, she motioned for the group to continue deeper into Highhaven.

  Highhaven, as Lyanna had known it, was a place built for those who could soar. The central chamber of the city was hollow—like a vast vertical tube, stretching far into the sky above and down into the depths below.

  The walls of the city were lined with platforms and walkways, each one connected by bridges of wood, silver and crystals. The city rose in layers, each level more open and airy than the last.

  Above, the vast hollow of the city seemed endless, filled with wind and light. Below, the city’s foundations were a tangle of spiraling roots and crisscrossing passages, unseen yet ever-present.

  Fae darted between the endless floors of Highhaven, weaving in and out of the air like a swarm of bees, their delicate wings fluttering quickly. They worked with a strange intensity, both repairing and reclaiming something that had been lost.

  The group walked through the entrance wall, each surface adorned with beautiful fae works. Carvings that seemed to twist and dance under the soft light of enchanted lanterns, tapestries that moved as if alive.

  "We need to go up ten floors to find the keymaster,” Lyanna said.

  Her words echoed slightly in the vast hall, and they began their ascent up the winding spiral staircase. The wooden steps creaked underfoot, the creaking louder the further they climbed.

  By the time they reached the ninth floor, the staircase had become more crowded. Fae swarmed in clusters, their voices rising in soft murmurs. Something was amiss. There were too many fae.

  "Why are there so many people here?" Lyanna asked, stepping forward.

  A young fae with violet wings turned. His eyes widened when he saw Lyanna, and he straightened quickly.

  "Guardian," he said, bowing low, his voice filled with reverence. "Something has happened to the keymaster."

  Without a word, she spread her wings and leapt into the air, her form cutting through the crowd with the grace expected of the Guardian. She flew upwards, faster than any of them could react, her wings beating against the air with a powerful rhythm as she ascended toward the keymaster’s store.

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  She hovered momentarily, seeing the crowd of fae gathered outside the keymaster’s store.

  "Make way!" she shouted, her words like a whip crack through the thick air. The fae hesitated for only a heartbeat, then scrambled aside, parting to let her pass.

  It was a mess.

  His shelves, once neat and meticulously organized, were a chaotic display of scattered keys and magical sigils that glowed dimly. The keymaster himself, an elderly fae with a long, pointy beard that seemed to tremble with each breath he took, looked more frail than usual.

  When Lyanna approached, his gaze shifted toward her with a quiet sigh of relief. It was clear he had been expecting her, or perhaps, hoping.

  "Guardian," the keymaster said, his voice heavy with worry. "Thank Mother Crystal, you are here."

  Lyanna didn’t waste any time with pleasantries. She stepped forward, her wings folding at her back. "What’s wrong?" she asked.

  The keymaster’s hands wrung together, his normally composed demeanor fractured by the unusual event. "Rank test keys for the Bronze test," he said. "They’ve suddenly spawned en masse. I’ve never seen anything like it in all my years as keymaster. Not once in hundreds of years has this happened.”

  "And that is… unusual?" she asked. For all the keys Lyanna received for her adventurers, she never knew the rules of the keymasters and their key spawning.

  The keymaster’s eyes darkened. “The rank test keys... they are never meant to spawn in bulk. They only spawn singular. One key, one name. This..." He gestured to the mass of keys now scattered about the floor, their edges gleaming faintly with magic. "This is... unprecedented.”

  Lyanna opened her mouth to ask more, but before she could, the sound of footsteps echoed from behind her. The rest of the party had arrived. Terrance, Grent, Eti, and Lagos stepped through the doorway.

  Terrance’s hand rested on the hilt of his sword, his posture ever the seasoned warrior, ready for danger. Grent scanned the room with a warrior’s gaze, his massive form filling the doorway as he stepped inside. Young Eti looked around, looking concerned and Lagos, as usual, wore a crooked smile.

  "What’s this about?" Lagos asked.

  "The keymaster says something strange has happened. Many rank test keys for the Bronze test have spawned, instead of one at a time. The keymaster has never seen it in all his years," Lyanna explained.

  "What does that mean? Why would they spawn like that?" Terrance asked.

  The keymaster stepped forward. "I don’t know," he admitted. “But word got out and everyone outside is here to collect their key.”

  Lyanna stood at the center of the chaos, her mind racing with doubt. She couldn’t shake the suspicion gnawing at her.

  "Something’s off," she said. "It feels like a trap. Some kind of new ploy by the Masters."

  Grent, standing to her side, gave a short grunt of agreement. “You think you’re in control, and then the game shifts without warning. Something is happening."

  Terrance stood in the corner of the room, his gaze distant as he pondered the unfolding events. Then, without warning, something stirred in the air.

  A flicker of gold and light—a bird, ethereal and gleaming, appeared beside Terrance. Its feathers shimmered like liquid gold, and in its talons, it held a rolled parchment.

  It hovered for a brief moment before dropping the message at Terrance’s feet. Without a sound, the bird vanished into the air, disappearing as quickly as it had come.

  Terrance reached down to pick up the parchment. His fingers trembled slightly as he unrolled it, the soft crackle of paper breaking the stillness. He read the letter, his brow furrowing deeper with each passing word. The concern in his eyes was unmistakable when he looked up.

  "This message is from Mrs. Keys in Newvale," Terrance said. "Apparently, something similar happened there. Rank test keys... many of them spawned all at once. Mrs. Keys is worried, just like we are."

  "No two waves are ever the same,” Lagos said. “If this happened in Newvale too... it’s not a random occurrence.”

  "No, it isn't," Lyanna said. "These things shouldn’t be used. At least not like this. Not all at once. We don’t know what could happen."

  Terrance was already moving, his hand finding a parchment with a bird shaped emblem. He scrawled quickly, his quill gliding across the paper with practiced ease. His brow furrowed as he sealed the letter with a wax seal. When the letter was finished, he held it aloft, his eyes meeting Lyanna’s.

  "I’ve written the same to Mrs. Keys," he said. "Instructing her to hold onto the keys for now, to keep them safe. If there’s something more to this, I don’t want to take any chances." He turned to the air, and a golden bird appeared once more, accepting the message from Terrance’s hand. The bird then vanished as quickly as it had come.

  "But the question remains: what happens next?" Lagos asked.

  Lyanna’s response was calm, but there was no mistaking the firmness in her tone. "I need to get them to leave. For now, at least."

  Her wings fluttered once, twice, her graceful form lifting above the throng of anxious fae that surrounded the keymaster’s store.

  She raised her hand, the gesture quiet but commanding, and in that moment, the murmur of voices fell into a tentative silence. "Everyone, listen to me," she called out, her voice carrying effortlessly over the crowd. "Head back for now. The test will have to wait."

  Her words were met with immediate grumbles, the chorus of voices rising like a wave, each fae’s frustration bubbling to the surface.

  "I know you are eager for the test," she continued. "But we do not know what these new keys will bring. They must be investigated first."

  There was a flicker of discontent in the crowd, murmurs rising like the swell of an incoming tide. They were at the Introductory level—young, hungry, desperate for recognition, for that one chance to prove themselves. They wanted the promotion. The glory.

  Lyanna could almost hear their thoughts swirling beneath the surface: If the keys are here, why not take the chance now?

  The crowd wasn’t happy, but they were beginning to understand that there was no moving forward until this strange occurrence was resolved. As they filed out of the room, the quiet dissatisfaction clung to the air, but Lyanna paid it no mind. There were more pressing concerns.

  Lagos, watching the crowd thin, spoke again, his voice laced with Cheloran wisdom. "The tides do not rush," he said. "They come and go in their own time."

  But then, as most of the crowd began to file out, a voice rang out, sharp and accusing. A young fae, his wings trembling with indignation, turned to face her from the back of the room, his expression angry and defiant.

  "The Guardian doesn’t think straight when the brutish human is around!" he yelled, pointing at Grent, who stood still by the door. The words hung in the air, his voice full of the brashness of youth, thick with venom.

  Lyanna’s eyes flicked to the fae, her lips pressed into a tight line, but before she could respond, a sharp, hissing voice cut through the tension.

  "You dare to question the Guardian?" Eti’s voice was a growl. His eyes locked onto the young fae, his gaze so intense that the air seemed to grow colder. "You speak of things you do not understand."

  The young fae recoiled, his bravado crumbling in the face of Eti’s fury. He opened his mouth to retort but was met only with a glare that silenced him. The defiance in his posture faltered, and without another word, the young fae turned and disappeared into the crowd.

  Lyanna and Eti descended to the ground, their wings folding neatly at their backs as they landed. The crowd had dispersed, leaving only the group to deliberate the next steps. Grent, his broad shoulders slumped with something like guilt, turned to Lyanna as she touched down beside him.

  "I’m sorry, Ly," he said, his eyes avoiding hers, looking down at the floor. "Me being here is making it harder for you. Maybe it's better if I—"

  Lyanna cut him off with a gentle, but firm touch on his arm. She looked up at him, her expression steady, her eyes unwavering. "It’s fine, Grent," she said. "You can stay."

  "Wyn’s always been a hothead," Eti said, hovering slightly above the ground. "He says the dumbest things, but he doesn’t mean them. He’s just... well, Wyn."

  Lyanna exhaled slowly, her gaze drifting over the now-empty hall. "We have bigger things to worry about," she said softly, "and the last thing we need is to be divided."

  "We need to postpone the raid on Avaris’s square," she declared. "Given this new development with the keys... it’s too dangerous. We can’t walk into a trap. Not when we know nothing."

  Everyone around her nodded in agreement.

  Terrance was the first to speak after the pause. "I’m sorry, Lyanna," he said, his gaze drifting toward the distant door. "But I’ll need to return to Newvale.”

  "I understand. Do what you must, " Lyanna said. She recognized duty could be called in ways that couldn’t be avoided.

  Grent, standing off to the side, gave a slight huff, his eyes narrowing with a hard edge. "I’m staying," he announced. "I signed up to kill Avaris, and that’s what I’ll do. I won’t let this stop me." His words were heavy with intent.

  "I knew you’d say that," she said, her lips curling to a small, approving smile.

  Turning back to the rest of the group, Lyanna formulated a plan. "We need to be sure that the rank test isn’t a trap," she said. "The keys could be a lure, and if we rush in without knowing what we’re walking into, it could all be for nothing. I want to give the key to someone to scout it out first. Make sure it’s safe before everyone goes charging in."

  Grent’s eyes narrowed, glancing toward the doorway where the remnants of the crowd still lingered. His voice held a quiet certainty, as if he had already decided who would volunteer.

  "I think we found the perfect person for the job.”

  ******